Contents

(Using the first Ocularum) The skull illuminates certain objects in the distance. I am not familiar with such magic.

(Approaching an Elven artifact) I believe I sense one of the artifacts of my people.

(Activate Elven artifact) Excellent. The wards are functioning again.

(About to fight a high dragon) An impressive creature. There is a purity in such undiluted power.

(About Corypheus upon reaching Skyhold) You shamed him when you destroyed Haven. It spoiled his glorious victory. It would be worse to acknowledge that you had done so. He must continue on his course or show weakness. He will return to his plans to throw Orlais into chaos and then conquer it for Tevinter.

(About Corypheus post-Here Lies the Abyss, pre-Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts) You've taken his army. He lacks the conventional forces to take Orlais. He must see Orlais destroyed utterly by whatever means possible, not merely thrown into chaos.

(About Corypheus post-Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, pre-Here Lies the Abyss) Although you have ended the battle in Orlais, it will take the country some time to recover. Corypheus faces a decision: accelerate his plan to gain power, or abandon his dream of conquering Orlais––for now. He will never abandon his dream.

(About Corypheus pre-What Pride Had Wrought) He has lost his army, and he has lost Orlais. That eliminates military or political means to rebuild Tevinter. He will need to demonstrate that no one in this world can stand against his magic. It will not be subtle.

(About Corypheus post-What Pride Had Wrought) You have waylaid all his other plans. Now, as a petulant child, he will destroy the game board rather than admit defeat. Be ready for anything. He still believes himself a god, and gods do not fall gracefully.

Blackwall: Talked with Solas the other day... That man knows all there is to know about everything.

Blackwall: Don't play Diamondback with Solas. You've been warned. Taught him the game last night. He turned around and beat me at it. Lost everything. Had to walk back to my quarters with only a bucket for my bits.

Josephine: I suppose I should be wary of an apostate, but our elven mage has conducted himself with the utmost propriety. And he has the most fascinating stories.

Solas: Either they are accustomed to a life without choices, to following even the worst orders...

Solas: Or they have learned to enjoy causing pain, to leap at any chance to swing a sword harder.

───────

Blackwall: Val Royeaux, huh? I remember the first time I visited it, some thirty years ago. The market was not half as large, without the garish statues. And far fewer stands selling those ridiculous frilly little cakes.

Solas: The Val Royeaux market was once nothing but tents of oiled leather and mud. Filled with ragged humans selling strings of beads made of bone.

Blackwall: You saw this in the Fade?

Solas: Yes. I left that memory quickly. The smell...

Blackwall: Must have been ages ago.

Solas: Oh yes. It's much better now. I enjoy the frilly cakes.

───────

Solas: Your Order... the Grey Wardens...

“Whatever we were before, we are now the Inquisition.” — The InquisitorThis article contains spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition. Click here to reveal them.

Solas: Survive the first thirty heartbeats, and you'll have already won.

Blackwall: So I should try not to die? Helpful.

Solas: I mean that demons are rarely intelligent enough to change their tactics. If you focus on defending yourself, you will see the full range of their abilities within the first thirty heartbeats. By then, you should be able to find a weakness and exploit it.

Blackwall: Ahh, that is helpful! I will try to remember that.

Solas: Also, try not to die.

───────

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war?

Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it.

Blackwall: An elven skirmish?

Solas: In a manner of speaking. You?

Blackwall: I was a soldier. And I... well... you know how it is.

Solas: I do indeed.

───────

Blackwall: For all your experience, Solas, you don't carry yourself like a soldier.

Solas: You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight.

Blackwall: Ah, youth.

Solas: It is a delicate balance for those who fight.

Solas: If they lack sufficient passion, they never become truly skilled, and die or leave the life.

Blackwall: But too much passion, and they end up dead––––or monsters better off dead.

Solas: Yes. It is a rare soldier who can fight without letting it define him.

───────

Blackwall: You haven't said much to me since... well, you know.

Solas: There is little to say. I assumed we were alike. We'd seen war, knew its terrible costs, but understood that it was necessary. But there was nothing necessary in what you did. You did not survive death and destruction. You sowed them. To feed your own desires.

Blackwall: I know that. I see it every time I look in a mirror. I try to make up for it.

Solas: By wearing another skin. You ran away rather than face what you had done. You wasted your time.

───────

Solas: I wish to apologize for what I said to you, Blackwall.

Blackwall: You were right, though. I deserved it.

Solas: My people had a saying long ago - "The healer has the bloodiest hands." You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. You cannot heal pain by hiding it. You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better. You have taken the first step. That is the hardest part.

───────

Solas: I will remember this. When it is over.

Blackwall: This? This war? The Inquisition?

Solas: The people. How you fought against the tide. It is... courageous.

───────

(If the Inquisitor romanced Blackwall)

Solas: So, you and the Inquisitor are together.

Blackwall: Yes. Is that a problem?

Solas: Far from it. People should seize any chance for a moment's respite in times such as these. I am glad you've allowed yourself some happiness.

Blackwall: I expected you to think that I should keep punishing myself.

Solas: I would be concerned if you forgot your past, but that seems unlikely. Beyond that, guilt is a distraction. One we can ill afford.

Blackwall: What of you, then? Have you found someone to share a moment's respite?

Cassandra: I know my abilities do not come from the Maker, as I had once thought...

Solas: Your abilities declare the world real. Who, if not the Maker of this world, could grant such a gift?

Cassandra: You believe in the Maker?

Solas: I am always open to new ideas.

───────

Solas: Seeker, you initially believed our "Herald of Andraste" was involved in the attack on the Conclave, yes?

Cassandra: I did. The evidence seemed damning, given the lack of an alternative.

Solas: Yet you changed your mind.

Cassandra: You also heard the voices at the temple - is it so surprising I listened to them?

Solas: Sadly, yes. Too few invested with authority possess the courage to alter their course.

Solas: They fear the appearance of weakness.

Cassandra: The truth is more important than my reputation, and anyone willing to accuse me of weakness is welcome to try.

───────

Solas: Your abilities are remarkable, Seeker. It is fascinating to see how you and the templars negate magic.

Cassandra: Have you never encountered templars before?

Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all.

Cassandra: And they never caught you even once?

Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

───────

Cassandra: Solas, did you ever considered reforming the Circle from within? You have both knowledge and wisdom. You could have made the difference.

Solas: I admire your optimism, but ask yourself honestly how the templars would have reacted.

Cassandra: You fear that they would have made you tranquil.

Solas: There is no doubt in my mind. My studies threaten established ideas. I would never have been tolerated.

Cassandra: I suppose you are right. Repairing the damage done will take great effort.

Solas: Would there be more like you, Seeker.

───────

Cassandra: You say you've witnessed past events in the Fade, Solas--or the memories of them.

Cassandra: But the Fade distorts reality. Surely it cannot offer a true reflection of what occurred.

Solas: Are your own memories any different? The truth is never precise, regardless of where you are.

───────

Solas: So, Seeker, your Inquisition grows.

Cassandra: It was never my Inquisition, Solas.

Solas: You did the brutal, thankless work putting the wheels in motion.

Solas: Do you feel no regret at letting that power pass to another?

If the Inquisitor and Cassandra do not get along:

Cassandra: I do not always agree with the Inquisitor, but I know well that I'm not also always right. So, whatever regrets I have I will endure. The world needs a leader.

If the Inquisitor and Cassandra do get along:

Cassandra: I did my part. But the power you describe was never mine to carry.

Cassandra: I know myself and I cannot be the leader we need. Thus, I have no regrets.

Solas: You surprise me again, Seeker.

Cassandra: Your opinion of me must be very low to surprise you so often.

Solas: Not low, but realistic. Very few, however honorable, release power they have won.

───────

Cassandra: Solas, if you do not mind me asking, what do you believe in?

Solas: Cause and effect. Wisdom as its own reward, and the inherent right of all free willed people to exist.

Cassandra: That is not what I meant.

Solas: I know. I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same.

Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope.

Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

───────

(If Inquisitor romanced Solas and removed the Vallaslin.)

Cassandra: I admit, I know little of their meaning, but I did not think it was possible to remove Dalish tattoos.

Solas: Most Dalish would agree with you--- and see little value in doing so.

Cassandra: Then how---?

Solas: It was done in a... private moment, I would rather not discuss it.

Cassandra: Of course, I should not have asked.

───────

Cassandra: What is it like when templars nullify magic, Solas?

Solas: It is as though you are drawing upon the world around us. Mages draw forth the essence of the fade, and use that essence to shape reality.

Cassandra: And our powers drive it back, making this world harder to affect?

Solas: In a manner of speaking. You reinforce reality so it's less mutable. The fade has nowhere to gain a foothold, and the magic disperses.

Cassandra: I noticed, Solas, that you did not seem surprised by what I uncovered about the Seekers.

Solas: No? They are an organization.

Cassandra: You think organizations to be inherently corrupt?

Solas: Given enough time, yes. To survive, an organization must devote resources to maintaining itself. Those resources inevitably accumulate until the original purpose, however pure, is all but lost.

Cassandra: You make the Seekers sound like a mindless beast.

Solas: A beast, no matter how mindless, will die and give way to a successor. An organization is eternal. There are always corrupt men who hoard power for their own gain and there are always honorable men who hoard power to fight them.

Solas: How go your attempts to ease the pain of those at Skyhold, Cole?

Cole: I made the scullery maid stop crying and one of the boys in the stable is happier. Some of the servants are angry. My help makes work for them. Do you want me to stop?

Solas: No. You exist to help others. You are kindness, compassion, caring. If you stop giving comfort, you would twist into something else, as you did before I suspect.

Cole: Yes. I will not be that again.

Solas: Good. Never forget your purpose. It is a noble one, even if this world does not understand.

───────

Cole: You are quiet, Solas.

Solas: Unless I have something to say, yes.

Cole: No, inside. I don't hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still.

Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighed against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: There is pain though, still within you.

Solas: And I never said that there was not.

───────

Cole: You don't need to envy me, Solas. You can find happiness in your own way.

Solas: I apologize for disturbing you, Cole. I am not a spirit, and sometimes it is hard to remember such simple truths.

Cole: They are not gone so long as you remember them.

Solas: I know.

Cole: But you could let them go.

Solas: I know that as well.

Cole: You didn't do it to be right. You did it to save them.

Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about?

Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Cole: You weren't wrong, though.

Solas: Thank you, Cole.

Or

Inquisitor: Cole, I think Solas would like you to stop.

Solas: It is no bother, Inquisitor. Cole is a spirit of compassion and this world is too bleak to spurn compassion offered freely. I will never know that for certain, Cole, but thank you for saying it.

Solas: While it has not manifested naturally, there are ways to determine whether arcane gifts lie dormant within you.

Sera: What? Don't make me think about that. I have to sleep at night!

Solas: Sleeping would give you the chance to explore the Fade. I could introduce you to spirits.

Sera: Right, you're messing with me on purpose!

Solas: Why would I do that? It is not as though I know who filled my bedroll with lizards.

Sera: Heh. Fair point! That was pretty good.

───────

Solas: Our people used to be here.

Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere.

Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Sera: I bet, right? Who wants to think about stepping on dead elves.

Solas: Din elvhen emma him?

Sera: Oh, you felt that one.

───────

Sera: (shivers) Weird.

Solas: Sera? What are you feeling?

Sera: Ugh, here we go. It’s nothing, it just feels like I've seen this. Exactly this. It happens.

Solas: Not to everyone.

(If Inquisitor is an elf)

Sera: It’s not an elf thing. Inquisitor's not shaking.

(Otherwise)

Sera: It’s not an elf thing. You’re not shaking.

Sera: I suppose now you’ll switch to how I’m the same but different?

Solas: You are different. You are the furthest from what you were meant to be.

Sera: Well I’ve definitely heard piss like this before. Hmph!

───────

Solas: What color is the sky, Sera?

Sera: Hang on.

Solas: It is an earnest question. What color is the sky when you look at it?

Sera: You know, blue mostly. Except for the Breachy bits.

Solas: And when you looked past the Breach? As perhaps you were drawn to do?

Sera: Greenish? Then clear a long ways, and kind of... felt like falling.

Sera: Ugh! Makes my head hurt. You make my head hurt.

Solas: We are not so far apart, you and I.

Sera: We will be.

───────

Solas: Sera, I notice that in a recent fight, you killed someone I was already dealing with.

Sera: You were doing it too slow.

Solas: Just to be clear, you wish me to manipulate the delicate balance of the primordial energy of the Fade... faster.

Sera: You're not making it worse. It's bad enough you people do that at all!

(If Dorian is in the party)

Dorian: That seems unnecessary.

───────

Solas: I heard about your organization, Sera. I am impressed.

Sera: Is this a trick?

Solas: Hardly. But it is an opportunity. You have already divided your group's membership. That is wise. No one cell can betray all your secrets. The next step is to establish a rhythm. When your enemies pursue, you vanish. When they become complacent, you harass them. When they are weak, you strike in earnest.

Sera: Where d'you get all this, then?

Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Sera: I don't know. Neither?

───────

Solas: Once you have the aristocracy weakened, Sera, you will have to redirect your lieutenants.

Sera: Oh, this again. All right, what am I doing?

Solas: Some of your forces, valuable until now, have no interests beyond creating disruption. Chaos for its own sake. They must be repositioned where they can do no harm, or removed if necessary. You replace them with organizers willing to build a new system and carry out the ugly work that must be done.

Sera: What? Why? What ugly work?

Solas: That is up to you. Do you wish to disrupt the nobility, secure a title? Or change the political structure entirely?

Sera: None of it! I don't want any of that!

───────

Solas: I do not understand you, Sera. You have no end goal for your organization.

Sera: Nobles get rattled, and people get payback. I play in the middle.

Solas: Why not go all the way? You see injustice, and you have organized a group to fight it. Don't you want to replace it with something better?

Sera: What, just lop off the top? What's that do, except make a new top to frig it all up?

Solas: I...forgive me. You are right. You are fine as you are.

Sera: You hurt my head sometimes, Solas.

Solas: Yes, I have been known to do that.

───────

(If Inquisitor is in a relationship with Solas)

Sera: So, you and the Lady Inquisitor. Interesting.

Solas: Your interest is not my concern.

Sera: That's all right, because I meant boring. The elf always takes the elf so that banging bits will mean something.

Solas: It is not a topic for discussion.

Sera: Oh, come on. Drop 'em and rebuild the empire. Phwoar!

Sera: What? Nothing? Like I thought, no fun.

Solas: Think what you will. It is clear I am not here for you.

Or

Inquisitor: Sera! No more!

Sera: Hmph! Fine. Whatever.

Solas: Don't concern yourself, vhenan. She is… apart from herself.

Or

Inquisitor: (Laughter) You're ridiculous.

Sera: Not me. It's him! And you.

Solas: Only one of us is looking sad and foolish, Sera.

Sera: Oh, go twang your ears!

───────

Sera:(Belches, then laughs.) Hey Solas, how do you say "excuse me" in elven or whatever?

Solas: For you, it would be "ara seranna-ma." It is a coincidence that your name is within, the base for is common.

Varric: No, really. Why else would an elven apostate help crazy Chantry folk close a hole in the sky?

Solas: When you put it like that, I must concede your point.

───────

Solas: Is it true that the entire dwarven economy relies upon lyrium?

Varric: Mostly. We've got the nug market cornered as well.

Solas: And the dwarves of Orzammar have never studied lyrium?

Varric: If they have, they certainly haven't shared anything up here. Why?

Solas: It is the source of all magic, save that which mages bring themselves.

Solas: Dwarves alone have the ability to mine it safely. I wondered if they had sought to learn more.

Varric: The folks back in Orzammar don't care much about anything but tradition.

───────

Solas: Do you ever miss life beneath the earth? The call of the Stone?

Varric: Nah. Whatever the Stone - capital S - is, it was gone by the time my parents had me.

Solas: But... do you miss it?

Varric: How could I miss what I never had?

Varric: But say I did have that sense, that connection to the Stone. What would it cost me?

Varric: Would I lose my friends up here? Would I stop telling stories?

Varric: I like who I am. If I want to hear songs, I'll go to a tavern.

Solas: You are wiser than most.

───────

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing.

Varric: What's so confusing about endless darkspawn?

Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter. Dwarves control the flow of lyrium. They could tighten their grip on it.

Varric: It's hard to get the attention of the humans when the darkspawn aren't up here messing with their stuff.

Solas: You're active in the Carta. You know your people could tug the purse strings. You could claim sovereign land on the surface, or demand help restoring the dwarven kingdom, but you don't.

Varric: You're not saying anything I haven't said myself, Chuckles. Orzammar is what it is.

───────

Solas: Is there at least a movement to reunite Orzammar and Kal-Sharok?

Varric: What is it with you, Chuckles? Why do you care so much about the dwarves?

Solas: Once, in the Fade, I saw the memory of a man who lived alone on an island. Most of his tribe had fallen to beasts or disease. His wife had died in childbirth. He was the only one left. He could have struck out on his own to find a new land, new people. But he stayed. He spent every day catching fish in a little boat, every night drinking fermented fruit juice and watching the stars.

Varric: I can think of worse lives.

Solas: How can you be happy surrendering, knowing it will all end with you? How can you not fight?

Varric: I suppose it depends on the quality of the fermented fruit juice.

Solas: So it seems.

───────

Solas:: I am sorry to have bothered you with my questions about your people Varric. I see so much of this world in dreams. Humans, my own people, even qunari. Dwarves alone were lost to me, save scattered fragments of memory where some spirit cared to watch. Now I know why I see so little.

Varric: And why is that?

Solas:: Dwarves are the severed arm of a once mighty hero, lying in a pool of blood. Undirected. Whatever skill of arms it had, gone forever. Although it might twitch to give the appearance of life, it will never dream.

Varric: I'd avoid mentioning that to any Carta, Chuckles. They might not take it the right way.

───────

Varric: What's with you and the doom stuff? Are you always this cheery or is the hole in the sky getting to you?

Solas: I've no idea what you mean.

Varric: All the "fallen empire" crap you go on about. What's so great about empires anyway?

Varric: So we lost the Deep Roads, and Orzammar's too proud to ask for help. So what? We're not Orzammar and we're not our empire.

Varric: There are tens of thousands of us living up here in the sunlight now, and it's not that bad.

Varric: Life goes on. It's just different than it used to be.

Solas: And you have no concept of what that difference cost you.

Varric: I know what it didn't cost me. I'm still here, even after all those thaigs fell.

───────

Solas: You truly are content to sit in the sun, never wondering what you could've been, never fighting back.

Varric: Ha, you've got it all wrong, Chuckles. This is fighting back.

Solas: How does passively accepting your fate constitute a fight?

Varric: In that story of yours—-the fisherman watching the stars, dying alone. You thought he gave up, right?

Solas: Yes.

Varric: But he went on living. He lost everyone, but he still got up every morning. He made a life, even if it was alone.

Vivienne: You must be disappointed, apostate. Your rebels have not found the freedom they hoped for.

Solas: I planted no seeds in your garden, Enchanter. You grew that fruit yourself.

Vivienne: And I will once again ensure they are protected from a world that hates and fears them.

Solas: While mages live in depravation you do not share? You lord their mystique over those not so gifted. Well played, Enchanter. In another age you might have ruled an empire.

Vivienne: You are too kind, my dear. But this age is still young.

───────

Vivienne: So, apostate. If the Circle is such a failure, what would be your solution? Would you have your fellow mages live among the people, unguarded, unwatched?

Solas: Yes.

Vivienne: And when they became possessed, or use their power to harm?

Solas: I would kill them. Magic is more elegant than a blade or a bow, but a murderer remains a murderer.

Vivienne: So you alone would pass judgment, repay murder with murder, or do we open this up to mobs and vigilantes? If you're going to dispense judgment upon violent mages yourself, you'll need eternal life and omniscience. If only there were individuals dedicated to finding and eliminating such criminals. Perhaps they might help?

Solas: I am certain they would. Until black and white distinctions perverted their simple minds.

───────

Solas: Do enjoy this time, Enchanter. You may miss your freedom when you lock yourself back up in some tower.

Vivienne: Imprisonment is largely a matter of who holds the keys.

Solas: You so often come out on top. You play the political games brilliantly.

Vivienne: A compliment? Although you speak it as a curse.

Solas: You could use those skills to improve the lives of your fellow mages. Instead you have done nothing, save consolidate your own power.

Vivienne: What if keeping my power might in fact improve the lives of my fellow mages?

Solas: You honestly believe the world is better off with you setting its course?

Vivienne: I need not be in spotlight. But after watching others try and fail, why should I not have a turn?

Solas: Then Enchanter, I leave you with the greatest curse of my people. Dirthara-ma.

Vivienne: What rustic elven curse is that, apostate?

Solas: "May you learn."

───────

Solas: Your position in the Orlesian court must be frustrating, Enchanter.

Vivienne: Darling, I have no idea what you might be implying.

Solas: With your magic you are kept at arm's length, never able to play the Game to its fullest. Some part of you must always wonder if you could have gone farther had you not been a mage.

Vivienne: Don't be absurd. Without magic, I doubt the Orlesian court would have interest in me at all.